Thursday, January 9, 2014

Making Resolutions When You Have No Resolve

It's
been a week since I made my annual list of New Year's resolutions, and
I've already I've broken all of them. That's a record. I don't know why I
keep making these ridiculous promises to improve my life. And these
resolutions weren't even that difficult.

#
1. No fudge before breakfast. How hard could that be? There are plenty
of other chocolate choices I can have instead of fudge -- like brownies,
See's candy, Oreos, Hershey's Chocolate Syrup. I can wait until
lunchtime for fudge.

#2. Walk to the mailbox. Why do I wait for my
husband to come home and bring me the mail? I can make it down the
driveway without breaking a sweat -- usually. And carrying all those
sales fliers for carpet cleaning is good exercise.

#3. Eat out
less. My husband and I have a bad habit of letting professional chefs
cook for us instead of heating up microwaveable meals and throwing
together peanut butter sandwiches. We'd probably save a lot of money --
and calories -- by just grabbing a carton of yogurt or some peanuts.
Only trouble is, a Black Bear Diner just opened up in Dublin. We love
the Black Bear Diner!

#4. Baby-sit more. My grandkids are growing
so fast. Before I know it, they'll be going away to beauty school or
launching their own startup company. If I don't hurry up and play more
Jenga games, make more Play-Doh pancakes, dress up more zombie dolls and
build more Lego computers, I'll find myself alone with my three cats.
They're no fun. Speaking of cats ...

#5. Sign up the cats for
charm school. They were so cute when we first got them. And we didn't
mean to get so many. We had a cat, but he ran away, so we got another
one, and he seemed lonely, so we got him a friend, but there was a
two-for-one special, then the first cat came back, and ... now we have
too many cats. It's not that we don't love them. We do, even though one
is as matted as a bird's nest, one smells like a urinal and one sits on
my lap while I'm in the bathroom. (The first one ran away again. He
couldn't stand the other three.) I'd like to get a little dog next --
one that will fit in my purse. They're so cute.

#6. Write more books. I need more money.

#7.
Use the RV more. We bought this money-sucking, gas-drinking, house on
wheels three years ago, and we've really got to go more places to get
our money's worth. The last time we used it, we parked it overnight in
front of my daughter's house on Christmas Eve so we could get up at 5 in
the morning and watch the grandkids open their Santa presents before
going back to bed. We've got to try that new RV park in Fresno. I hear
they have Ping-Pong, a bouncy house and bingo.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Cooking up Breaking Bad for Halloween

My
husband asked me to take him shopping the other day. Believe it or not,
that never happens. We shop differently. He goes to the hardware store
and comes out empty-handed. I go to the mall and buy everything. But
this time, he wanted me to come along because he wanted my opinion --
another first.

"I need makeup," he said, as we headed out the door.

Oookay.
What could he possibly need makeup for? To cover up the scratches in
the kitchen table? Don't they have something at the hardware store for
that?

"And I need it to match my skin tone," he continued.

Then
it dawned on me. We'd recently been invited to a Halloween party and he
was planning his costume. At least, I hoped that was it.

I
haven't been to a Halloween party since I was young and thin enough to
fit into a French maid costume. There's no way I can wear any of those
sexy outfits as a middle-aged woman. First of all, they wouldn't fit
around my middle-aged fat. And secondly, no one wants to see my
sun-spotted skin, thunder thighs and beer/wine/coffee gut protruding out
from that skimpy material. There will be no more Naughty Nurse, Bawdy
Barmaid or Pretty Princess costumes for me. Now, if you want a hospital
custodian, drunken old sot or weight-challenged witch, call me.

"So
what are you planning to wear to this Halloween party?" I asked,
worried he might be thinking of going as a Naughty Nurse, Bawdy Barmaid
or Pretty Princess.

"A Meth Dealer." That made complete sense.
We've been so caught up in marathon viewings of "Breaking Bad," it seems
like Walter White and Jesse Pinkman are part of the family. As for the
meth part, we're not sure what that is exactly. Probably some kind of
metaphor for life.

"I've got the baldhead cap," my husband said, "but I need it to blend into my skin so it looks real."

"I
see," I said. "As for the rest of the costume, you're not planning to
go in your tighty whiteys like Walter White, are you? Because there's no
way I'm going out in public with you in your underwear."

"Fine," he said, channeling his character. "I'll wear pants."

"So,"
I said, "if you're going to be Mr. White, the chemistry-teacher-turned
meth-cook, do you want me to go as his beautiful wife?"

"I was
thinking you'd be Jesse Pinkman, Walter White's assistant." What? He
expected me to wear baggy, low-slung jeans with my boxers showing, a
T-shirt that says, "Yo, Witch!" (edited for the family newspaper), an
oversized hoodie and a knitted stocking cap? Works for me. Hopefully no
one will recognize me.

Tom is totally into this costume. In fact,
he plans to "cook" his own blue crystal candy (he got the recipe on The
Food Network site.) I just hope there are no DEA agents there, or we may
have to call Saul to bail us out of jail.

Oh well. It's only for a
few hours, right? Then we can go home, eat a bunch of leftover
Halloween candy and watch the last episode of the best TV show ever:
"Breaking Bad."

Friday, October 18, 2013

Want to see something really scary?

I love scary movies. When October rolls around, I turn on the Chiller, SyFy and FX channels and record every movie that offers a thrill.

It doesn't matter what kind of scary movie -- teen slashers at haunted camps, mutant bugs the size of Godzilla, creepy clowns that come to life when no one else is looking, marine mammals that turn into tornadoes. I even like the old black-and-white classics when Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman at Dracula's Castle (with or without Abbot and Costello.)

As a kid, I was scared of everything. The dark. Boogeymen. Spiders. Even the Tooth Fairy gave me the creeps, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. How did she know where I lived? How did she know I'd lost a tooth? How much did she know about my hidden treasures?

Back then I never watched scary movies. When I was in fifth grade, all my friends at the slumber party had seen "The Blob" -- that scary movie in which Steve McQueen and his teen pals stumble upon a gooey sticky substance that begins devouring everyone in sight. I got nightmares just looking at the movie poster.

When I was in high school, I took my little brother to see "The Pit and the Pendulum" and "The House of Usher," but I spent most of the time in the well-lit lobby, pretending to buy popcorn. I was probably the last one to see "The Exorcist," terrified I'd find myself possessed by the devil.

So now I'm catching up on everything I missed. My TiVo is filled with zombies (undead, walkers, breathers, brain-eaters), ghosts (spirits, phantoms, apparitions), witches (pagans, wiccans, warlocks), spiritualists (voodoo queens, tarot readers, fortunetellers) and other paranormal activities. I'm looking forward to watching things that come out of the swamps and chase you, things that swoop down from the sky and pick you up and things that hide under the bed and grab your feet. I'll be eating them up like popcorn.

But as fearless as I've become over the years, there's one thing that scares me more than any of these so-called scary movies. Something scarier than any sharknado-crocsaurus-chupacabra-mutant beast combined: floating around in space.

Alone. Untethered. And running out of air.

Yep, I just saw "Gravity," the Sandra Bullock/George Clooney movie. In high-resolution Imax (10 times larger!), 3-D (be a part of the experience!), with digitally remastered sound (feel the vibrations in your bones!) Big mistake.

I haven't been to a movie like this since Ben-Hur came out in Technicolor. Not only did I hold my breath the entire 90 minutes of the film (like Sandra Bullock's character, who didn't even find someone to buddy-breathe with), but I was so tense trying to help Sandra grab onto the side of the space station, I had a knot in my neck the size of a lunar module. That movie scared the spacesuit off me.

Now I'm back to watching plain old horror movies on my plain old flat-screen TV.

Today's lineup: "Halloween," "Halloween II: The Sequel, Duh," "Halloween III: The Return of Michael Myers," "Halloween IV: The Revenge of Jamie Lee Curtis," "Halloween V: The Curse of Freddy Kruger," "Halloween VI: The Resurrection of John Carpenter's Career," and "Halloween The Thirteenth: With Abbott and Costello."

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Check your spam for important news!

Like
most computer uses, I have a built-in spam filter. Every now and then I
check it to make sure I haven't missed anything important, such as a
receipt for a purchase, a letter from a reader or a diagnosis from my
doctor.

I hadn't done this in several months, so I took a day off
from work to read through my spam and see if that check from Publisher's
Clearinghouse had somehow ended up there. No such luck. But I did find
lots of emails waiting for me that I thought were just as important. If I
hadn't checked, I would have missed the following:

Urgent Message from Mongolia. Doesn't "spam"
know that the word "urgent" means I need to see this message right away?
Especially one from Mongolia. Maybe a dear friend is stuck there and
has lost her luggage and passport and all her money and needs me to send
her a sympathy card.

"Girl" Finder. I can't
print the actual word that was used instead of "girl," but suffice it to
say, I'm not looking for a date at this time. Maybe later.

Eighty percent-off Viagra. Eighty percent off! I can't pass up a deal
like that, even for a product I don't really need. Now if only they had
80 percent off Breathe Right strips. My husband could use those.

Learn Your Credit Score. I'm going to pass on this one. The less I
know, the better. I plan to continue using my Visa as if there is no
tomorrow.

Earn Your Degree. Who wouldn't want
another degree in this economic climate? I'd like to get my doctorate in
massage therapy or cooking. And a degree in liberal studies would
certainly come in handy.

Congratulations Dear
Lucky Winner! Finally! I've never won anything in my life before this! I
wonder what I won. A new car? A vacation in Hawaii? A ShamWow? Can't
wait! All I have to do is send them a check to let them know I really
want this.

The Very Worst Food You Can Eat! I'm
not sure I want to know. I've eaten a lot of junk over the years, so
it's probably too late. Especially if chocolate and cupcakes and cookies
are on the list. Delete.

Luxury replica watches!
No one wears a watch anymore, now that we have smart phones that tell
us the time, remind us to take our meds, and wake us up in the morning.
But I'd like to buy a bunch of fake Rolexes and give them as gifts to
older people.

Dr. Oz Fat Buster -- Drew Barrymore
lost 24 lbs. Another one from the TV doctor! I love how Dr. Oz has
taken a personal interest in me with all these emails. And I could
really use a Fat Buster, since I look a lot like Drew Barrymore when she
was 24 pounds.

These so-called spams are just
the tip of the iceberg. I have so many more to read to make my life
better. Time's a-wasting, according to my new fake Rolex.